


Blown Away

by yauksiei



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Blown Away by Carrie Underwood, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yauksiei/pseuds/yauksiei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some random pre-Dydia songfic I wrote over the weekend. Totally unedited, so I'm very sorry if it's no good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blown Away

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr was not cooperating as it usually did, so I had to move it here because my fellow shippers asked me to post it and I didn't want to say I was going to and then not follow through.
> 
> SORRY ABOUT THE WEIRD SPACING! It's what I get for saving it in my email.

On a nice street in Beacon Hills, California, sits a lovely house on top of a hill. It has beautifully furnished rooms, a pool, lovely gardens…and the remnants of a torn childhood staining its perfectly polished floors with crimson tears and whiskey brown grief.

 

Amidst the ruin lies a young girl, no older than 17. Her strawberry blonde hair surrounds her pale face as her skin cries from her temple. Her green eyes are like icy daggers, flashing their stormy gaze on the man standing over her, his fumbling words cutting more scars into her heart as he yells at her. He is not apologizing for the damage.

 

Outside, nature is gathering its own storm.

 

_Dry lightning cracks across the skies_

_Those storm clouds gather in her eyes_

_Her daddy was a mean old mister; mama was an angel in the ground_

_The weather man called for a twister_

_She prayed, **Blow it down…**_

 

It’s easy, with all of the years worth of observing, to know exactly when to put her foot out. He stumbles to the floor at the precise time she wanted. She makes a break for the phone. Enough is enough. She can take care of herself now.

 

_There’s not enough rain in California to wash the sins out of that house_

_There’s not enough wind in California to rip the nails out of the past._

_Shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away!_

_Every brick, every board, every slammin’ door, blown away!_

_‘Til there’s nothin’ left standin’, nothin’ left of yesterday…_

_Every tear-soaked whiskey memory, blown away!_

_Blown away!_

_"911, what’s your emergency?”_

 

She need only say, “My dad's drunk and he keeps threatening to put a bottle to my head,” in the voice she used to cry out in as a child, along with her address. While her father gets up, she starts to run.

 

_She heard those sirens screaming out_

_Her daddy laid there, passed out on the couch_

_She locked herself in the cellar_

_Listened to the screaming of the wind_

_Some people called it taking shelter,_

 

She hears her father’s slurs instantly be overpowered by the police and their shouting. With each  _thump_ she hears, her smile grows.

 

_She called it **sweet revenge** …_

 

Victory sings in her veins, but she manages to turn the tears back on and huddles up in a corner just as one of the cops comes down with a flashlight and calls her name.

 

“Lydia?”

 

She forces a shaky sob from her lips and hears him rush over. As lightning crashes through the small window, Lydia can see he’s more than a little handsome, with piercing eyes of his own and hair as dark as the clouds outside. There’s something in those eyes that was either understanding, sympathy or both. For the first time since she started this plan, she’s not sure how to react.

 

He lowers his flashlight and offers his hand. “It’s ok,” he says, “You’re safe now.”

 

Lydia makes her hand tremble in his warm palm as he helps her stand. Once they’re upstairs, she can see his tag in the light.  _Officer Derek Hale_ , it read.

 

That’s why she didn’t recognize him. She’d only ever seen a Hale when her father was somewhat sober and talking about business with an older gentleman who called himself Victor Hale in his office.

 

Speaking of her father, he was struggling as much as the alcohol in his system out allow against the combined forces of handcuffs and strong arms of Sheriff Stilinski and his deputy.

 

Lydia could barely keep from grinning.

 

_Shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away!_

_Every brick, every board, every slammin’ door, blown away!_

_‘Til there’s nothin’ left standin’, nothin’ left of yesterday…_

_Every tear-soaked whiskey memory, blown away!_

_Blown away!_

 

Officer Hale puts his jacket around her shoulders before they step out into the rain to get to the ambulance with paramedics waiting to look her over. Lydia feels the cold drops on her face, but it fails to mask the blood still leaking from her cuts.

 

_There’s not enough rain in California to wash the sins out of that house_

_There’s not enough wind in California to rip the nails out of the past…_

_Shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away!_

 

“Thank you,” she chokes to Officer Hale just as he’s turning to go back to his cruiser. It was a quiet noise, so she thought he probably wouldn’t hear her; however, he turned and gave her a kind smile over his shoulder, a blinding display of pearly white teeth. Lydia can’t help but wonder at the almost predatory vibe it gives off, contrasting the gentler look of his eyes like blood against snow.

 

“You’re welcome,” he calls over the howling wind.

 

It doesn’t take long after that for the medics to patch her up and shut the ambulance doors behind her. Apparently she needs her head looked at “just in case”, so she has to go to the hospital.

 

That’s fine. Anywhere but here is fine.

 

_Every brick, every board, every slammin’ door, blown away!_

_‘Til there’s nothin’ left standin’, nothin’ left of yesterday…_

 

The rain eats up the window’s glass and swallows up any clear image of the house. Lydia finally lets herself marginally relax.

Oh. She still hasn’t given Officer Hale’s jacket back.

 

_Every tear-soaked whiskey memory, blown away!_

_Blown away…_

 

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
